


petals softly falling

by Hazazel



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop, Gift Fic, Hanahaki Disease, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:15:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hazazel/pseuds/Hazazel
Summary: “What the fuck are you doing here ?” are the first words out of his mouth. Oikawa looks at him like he completely lost his mind for talking like that to a client, before turning his head to see who has arrived. The resounding “Fuck off” that leaves his lips matches Hajime’s sentiment.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Ushijima Wakatoshi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51
Collections: Haikyuu Rarepair Exchange 2020





	petals softly falling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [6sins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/6sins/gifts).



> a lil gift for the hq rare pair exchange, that you can find on tungle and twit. this is for @diabloizm on twitter !!! hope you like it, it was tons of fun writing it

Hajime is a simple man. He sees handsome guys, he swoons. Except… This time, he doesn’t. “What the fuck are you doing here ?” are the first words out of his mouth. Oikawa looks at him like he completely lost his mind for talking like that to a client, before turning his head to see who has arrived. The resounding “Fuck off” that leaves his lips matches Hajime’s sentiment.

“Please,” says none other than Ushijima Wakatoshi, “I need help.”

“Last time you came you said that too,” Hajime retorts. “And we told you to fuck right off, just as we’re doing now.” It hurts to say this, in a locked-up part of his heart that he tries to forget, just like he tries not to look at Ushijima’s tired eyes and tries not to hear the desperation in his voice.

“Please.” That’s all Ushijima seems to say these days.

The three of them met again at a café. Ushijima was drinking something small and black that was most likely the darkest coffee Hajime had ever seen, and he raised his head to watch who entered as the doorbell jingled, seeing Hajime who was laughing at some joke or another, Oikawa in tow. His eyes had opened wide in a disbelieving stare, and he’d immediately looked down to his coffee, to his hands, to the floor, anywhere but at them. He’d been popping up a lot in their life ever since. At the cinema, at the grocery store, at the coffee shop where they buy their coffee beans.

“It’s like he’s following us,” Oikawa snarled one afternoon. 

“It’s more like he moved into the area,” Hajime sighed in answer. Nothing they could do about it, it’s not like they could show up to Ushijima’s landlord and convince them he had to be evicted on sight. And truth be told, Hajime didn’t want to. He didn’t know what he wanted but more and more, it took the shape of broad shoulders and a genuine, if rare, smile.

Hajime and Oikawa have been friends since they were babies. They’re souls that just found each other, and it shows in the almost eerie understanding they have of each other. When Oikawa says something, Hajime knows what he means - what he truly means. What goes on under that thick skull of his. And he knows Oikawa hates Ushijima just as much as he did all those years ago, during middle and high school, but now they’ve grown up, now they’re handling a flower shop in the middle of Sendai, now they’re past all that childish bullshit.

Or so Hajime thought, because seeing his old rival just rekindled the fire of “never enough” that had burned so bright in Oikawa when they were younger.

Which brings them to this. Ushijima coming into their shop for casual conversation, that Hajime entertained for a few weeks in the hopes he would get bored, finally, move on from this. But he didn’t - much to Oikawa’s chagrin. Hajime found less and less reasons to hate the guy, and more and more reasons to let his feelings flutter into something deeper. Oikawa, however… He’d always been good at holding grudges, always been good at getting the best, but also the worst, out of people.

Ushijima had snapped about two months in. “You’re still not as good as you could have been,” he’d told Oikawa.

“Get. Out,” was the answer, said through gritted teeth.

Ushijima has come back twice after that. Once, holding a very small flower that he asked to be examined, and then, today.

“Iwaizumi. I need help,” Ushijima repeats. His breath is coming in short, noisy exhales, like he’s choking on something. He coughs into his hand ( _ gross _ , Hajime thinks,  _ cough in your elbow _ ), and looks at his palm with an air of pure terror. “I don’t know what’s happening. What does the flower mean ?”

Hajime knows he’s referring to the flower he brought in before. Oikawa had thrown it into the trash as soon as Ushijima left, which means they never actually identified it. “Do you have another one on you ?” Hajime asks, trying to not grit his teeth too hard.

“I have more back home. Some started to take root. I think it’s an infestation.”

“Plants don’t work like that, Ushiwaka. Why the fuck do you seek help here anyway ?” Oikawa says, tone derisive. “We’re florists, not some pest control thing or whatever.”

The thing is… Hajime sees the hurt in Ushijima’s eyes, and he can’t shake the deep seated need to  _ help _ , to see his frown disappear. “Alright,” he sighs eventually. “I’ll swing by when we close the shop.”

“Thank you, Iwaizumi.” Ushijima leaves after those words, coughing in his hand again. Hajime hopes he doesn’t regret it.

  
  


There’s more flowers than free space in the apartment. When Hajime arrives, the door barely opens before he’s overwhelmed by the awfully strong, sweet smell of a dozen different varieties of flowers. “Ushijima, what the fuck ? You weren’t lying, those are nasty. Why don’t you throw them away ?”

Ushijima doesn’t answer. He’s facing the window, his shoulders have lost their usual straight posture, and he coughs before turning around. In his hand is a small purple flower that Hajime doesn’t recognise.

“Where did it come from ?” he asks in disbelief.

Ushijima doesn’t answer, at first. He just stares at the flower while his usually placid, expressionless face twists into something Hajime doesn’t recognise. “Satori told me I was going to die soon.”

“That doesn’t answer the fucking question !” Hajime feels panic then, feelings bubbling over in his mind, trying to think of any possibility that Ushijima could be lying. He can’t, he can’t, not right now ! “Ushijima, explain !”

“You don’t reciprocate.”

“Reciprocate what ?” 

“My feelings,” Ushijima whispers. He coughs like he can’t stop, and Hajime can see petals come out of his mouth in a white cascade, like his lungs are full of them. “At least I managed to tell you before it’s too late.”

For a brief moment, Hajime doesn’t know what to answer. He’s dumbstruck, completely at a loss for what to do with this information. The hope he’d tried to squash down, the bubbling of complicated feelings he’d tried to swallow, it’s like they’re all laid bare in Ushijima’s admission.

Hajime crosses the room in two quick strides, and crushes Ushijima against his chest. “Don’t talk about what you don’t know, you idiot. You’re not gonna die, we’ll find a way.”

Suddenly, Ushijima’s coughing subsides. The flowers that cover the apartment seem to wilt - like whatever kept them alive is done with. The overpowering smell wafts away in a gust of wind, and Hajime swears he sees the pollen glow. “I can’t say I love you, not yet. But give me - no, give  _ us  _ a chance.”

“Iwaizumi…”

“Call me Hajime,” he smiles.

“There’s a lot to talk about.”

“There sure is,” but to Hajime, it doesn’t sound so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> please don't forget the comments and kudos !


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